100 Days
One hundred days.
A brief measure of time, perhaps.
Yet long enough for a stranger to become familiar,
for silence to grow gentle,
for two distant lives to begin shaping a shared language.
You arrived quietly.
Not with spectacle,
not with promises rehearsed for effect,
but with sincerity.
With intelligence softened by kindness.
With patience.
With the rare ability to make affection feel safe.
You, the man who dreams in improbable scenarios,
who imagines dragons beside the Eiffel Tower,
who speaks through gestures as much as words,
who values solitude yet still made space for me.
I learned your rhythms slowly.
The way you retreat to recharge,
the way your mind wanders through galaxies of thought,
the way your love appears not always in grand declarations,
but in consistency.
In effort.
In staying.
There is something beautiful about loving someone from afar.
Not easy, never easy,
but beautiful in the sense that every conversation becomes intentional.
Every goodnight matters.
Every reassurance carries weight.
You taught me that love is not measured only through constant presence.
Sometimes love sounds like honesty.
Sometimes love looks like patience during misunderstandings.
Sometimes love is simply returning after a difficult day and saying,
“I am still here.”
And I am.
One hundred days later,
I still smile at your strange humor,
your closed mouth laughter,
your quiet brilliance,
your fondness for purple, pizza, and imaginary worlds.
I still admire the way your mind works.
A physicist who studies sunlight,
yet somehow became light in my own life too.
We are imperfect people.
Stubborn at times.
Emotional in different ways.
Still learning one another.
Still learning ourselves.
Yet even within our differences, there is undeniable gravity.
A pull neither logic nor distance fully explains.
So here is to one hundred days.
To every conversation that lasted longer than expected.
To every vulnerable truth.
To every moment we chose understanding over pride.
To every version of us still unfolding.
And most of all,
to you, my darling.
The man I did not expect,
yet somehow recognized immediately.